


The nightmare before christmas

by FruitBird (KiwiLombax15)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, PTSD flashbacks, The great tumblr offload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 15:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17025390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiLombax15/pseuds/FruitBird
Summary: Old wounds never truly heal over. But it's easier with friends.





	The nightmare before christmas

“The omnics are coming! Get the children to safety, the omnics are coming!”

Torbjorn yelped and tumbled out of bed, his wife blearily turning on the bedside lamp.

“Oh, and he was doing so well, too...” she mumbled, watching her husband scrabbling upright.

“Ingrid, I'm going to go talk him down, go get some cocoa on the stove for afterwards.”

He ran into Reinhardt in the hallway, stumbling out of one of the children's bedrooms. Five of his kids were limp as kittens in his arms, looking calmly at their father and waiting for the fuss to die down. This wasn't the first time this had happened, they knew the drill. Torbjorn had no concerns for their safety. Even lost in his own head, Reinhardt would never harm an innocent.

“What happened, old friend?”

Reinhardt's eyes were wild and staring.

“They are coming! Get the children down to the cellars!”

The door behind Torbjorn creaked open, and his middle child peeked out.

“Go back to bed, darling. Uncle Reinhardt got scared.”

They nodded, almost, but not quite, shutting the door. He knew there would be a small cluster of bright eyes watching the proceedings. Children would be children.

He turned back to Reinhardt and tried to remember Mercy's advice for this.

“Are you having a flashback, friend?”

Reinhardt paused in his rantings, a jumble of expressions crossing his face.

“I...I don't...they are coming, I know they are!”

“What did you hear? What set this off?”

“A noise! A bang! Their artillery!”

“Or perhaps a backfiring car. Listen, old friend? What do you hear? Focus on the now, focus on us.”

He stilled, and the soft sounds of the Swedish night filtered in, no screams or bullets or mechanical screeching, just the textured silence of night creatures. Reinhardt's grip on the children loosened, and Torbjorn noticed one of the younger ones had actually fallen asleep.

“Reinhardt, you are wandering in the past. That was then, this is now. You are safe here. Follow my voice and come home to us. Easy now, that's it. My children are safe, this house is safe, nothing here can hurt us.”

There was a sensation of light slowly flickering on behind Reinhardt's eyes as the shakes set in, his whole body trembling as it came down from a sickening adrenaline rush. He lowered the children carefully to the floor.

“I...I am sorry...I...woke your children.”

“Ah, it's the Christmas holidays, not like they have to worry about school. Alright, kids, shows over! Everyone back to bed!”

One of the middle kids (god he kept losing track) scooped up her slumbering sibling, and slowly the audience trickled away. Torbjorn reached out and took a massive, shaking hand in his.

“Come along. Ingrid put cocoa on. Something nice and sweet, just the thing after a bad episode, hmm?”

Reinhardt leaned heavily on him, near swaying with exhaustion and residual fear.

“I am sorry, friend. I made a fool of myself.”

“You cannot be blamed for the scars of your past. You are healing. Healing takes time. And sometimes there are setbacks. This is the way of things. What the future holds is uncertain, but I do know there is cocoa.”

Reinhardt smiled weakly.

“Will there be marshmallows?”

“I am certain they will only get stuck in your beard.” he chuckled. “Come on, it's Christmas tomorrow, and you know how the children love hearing your stories.”

He smiled weakly and let Torbjorn lead him away, a giant leaning on a dwarf.

“Old friend, I don't know how I'd survive without you.”

“Bah, just doing what friends should. Come on, there may be some whipped cream left...”


End file.
